


We'll call him Fred

by imamaryanne



Series: Neville and George [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Wizards meet muggle life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:30:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imamaryanne/pseuds/imamaryanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Hermione tells George about muggle doctors and surrogacy pregnancies, George convinces a reluctant Neville that they should try to have a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Neville Rebuilt. It's not absolutely necessary to have read that first, but there will be references to it, so it would be helpful.

**Prologue:**

At one point, Molly Weasley realized that she hadn’t seen all her kids, plus their spouses and her grandchildren, under the same roof for an entire year. She would see Ginny, Harry, and the kids one day. A few days later, Bill, Fleur and their kids would swing by, maybe Ron and Hermione and their kids might be there. But as far as all of them together at the same exact time? I didn’t happen at all that year. She instituted mandatory Weasley-family day once a month. The first sunday of every month found every member of the Weasley family gathered at The Burrow. Even Charlie sometimes managed to make it from Romania.

Neville liked these Sundays. He liked the way that the Weasley family expanded to fit new people. It reminded him of Hermione’s handbag; magically expanded on the inside so she has everything important with her. He’d only been with George a few months before the family absorbed him as one of their own. And it was a constant expansion with the addition of all the grandchildren, and most recently, Percy’s girlfriend Audrey.

But even beyond that, Hermione’s parents were always welcome at the Burrow, and they managed to come on occasion. Gran came along with Neville quite frequently, as she and Molly had become close friends. Fleur’s younger sister, Gabrielle, had recently transferred from Beauxbatons to Hogwarts, and she came along too. Ginny and Harry occasionally brought little Teddy Lupin along, who got along fantastically with Victoire Weasley. The Burrow was crowded in space, but no one seemed to mind.

It was on one of these Weasley Sundays that George and Neville were sitting at the large kitchen table chatting with Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. George was bouncing fifteen-month old Rosie on his knee while she giggled in delight. Jamie, who wasn’t quite three yet, was under the table pretending to be a dog, while his brother Albus, nearly the same age as Rosie, sat in Harry’s lap giggling at him.

“George, be careful with her,” Hermione said, watching anxiously as Rosie’s body flopped this way and that as George began bouncing his knees harder and higher.

“She loves it!” George said after Rosie squealed with delight.

Hermione looked worried and glanced at Ron to see if he’d help her out. Ron pointedly looked away and announced, “We were thinking, if this baby,” he pointed to Hermione’s bulging midsection, “is a boy, we’ll name him Fred.”

George immediately stopped bouncing Rosie, “No!” he said forcefully.

Everyone turned to him in surprise. Neville, particularly, thought another Fred Weasley was a wonderful sentiment.

“Why not?” Ron asked, taken completely off-guard.

“Because,” George slowly began bouncing Rosie again, “If I have a son, I want to name him Fred.”

The silence after that statement was long and profound. Neville stared at George, unsure how to even respond to him. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry glanced between one another silently, eyebrows raised.

Finally Ron spoke up, “I’m going to have to be the one to say this?” he asked looking around. When no one answered, he barrelled on, “Fine. George, how in the hell do you think you’re going to have a baby? Between you and Neville, you have exactly zero uteruses. Uteri?”

“I thought we might adopt a baby,” George answered.

“You _did_?” Neville asked, his voice creaking slightly and raised an octave.

“Yeah. I mean, it’d be great to have a kid, don’t you think?” George sounded entirely too casual about this.

Neville spluttered, “I never thought about it at all,” he said honestly. “I -” he stopped for a moment, “I don’t know that I do want kids. This is all news to me.”

“Really?” George asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “You wouldn’t like us to have a kid? A little son or daughter we can raise and send on the Hogwarts Express when he turns eleven?” He turned to the others, “Isn’t it the best, having kids?”

“It’s great,” Harry said. “But it probably works best when both parents are on board with it,” he glanced at Neville, whose face had drained of color.

“Wizard and witch children up for adoption are really few and far between,” Ron pointed out.

“Right,” George said. “But when a magical child is born, his or her name automatically appears on the Hogwarts registry for eleven years from then, right?” He looked at Hermione for confirmation.

“Yes,” she said slowly. She had access to the list from working at the Ministry in the Muggle Liaison Office.

“So, if there’s a muggle-born up for adoption, Neville and I swoop in and adopt him. Or her.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Hermione explained patiently. “And it’s _really_ rare. The last wizard who was brought up in a muggle orphange was a little boy named Tom Riddle. After that, there’s only been one wizard orphaned and brought up by muggles. And his name was Harry Potter.”

Another long pause, “Those were decades ago,” Hermione gently pointed out.

“Hmm,” George looked thoughtful. “I didn’t realize that.” Hermione looked uncomfortable and pained. “How would Neville and I go about having a baby?”

“Maybe you and Neville should actually talk about whether you want to raise a family first,” Neville said, having regained his voice.

“We’ll talk about it,” George patted Neville on the knee dismissively. “But just in case we’d want to, how would we go about getting a baby?”

“Doctors, you know - muggle healers, can do it,” Hermione announced.

Every head turned in her direction, “What?” Ron guffawed. “Muggle doctors can get men pregnant? Are you mental?”

Hermione shot him a nasty look. “No, I’m not mental. And they don’t get men pregnant. They can take the sperm from a man, and an egg from a woman and create the embryo in a laboratory. Then when the embryo is a few days old, they transfer it to a woman’s uterus.”

“You _are_ mental,” Ron said.

“No I’m _not_. It’s called surrogacy. Infertile couples do it, and so do male couples. They find a woman who is willing to carry a baby for them, she’s the surrogate. They use either her egg, or get a donor egg from another woman.”

George set Rosie down on the floor next to Jamie and leaned forward, “How would we go about doing this?” he asked Hermione.

Neville leaned forward too, and grabbed George by the arm, “We don’t. God, George, we’ve never even talked about children and you just want to run out and rent out someone’s uterus?”

George looked over at his husband, blinked, and considered for a moment, “Yeah, never mind, Hermione. We’d better talk it over first.”

 

______________

 

They did talk it over that night. George laid out his reasons for wanting children while they were getting ready for bed, and asked Neville why he was so hesitant.

Neville bit the inside of his cheek before saying, “I don’t know anything about kids.”

“You _work_ with them,” George reminded him.

“Not until they’re _eleven_!” Neville exclaimed. “Blimey, George. We go over to The Burrow and haven’t you ever noticed I never pick up any of the little kids? I just….they baffle me. I don’t know what to do with a baby or a toddler.”

“You pick it up,” George insisted.

Neville continued as though he hadn’t heard him. “And I like what we have here. We both work a lot, we don’t have time to commit to a kid. Ginny had to quit playing quidditch when she was pregnant with Jamie and never was able to go back to it. I love my job at Hogwarts, you have the store. When are we going to have time for kids?”

“Ginny still works,” George pointed out.

“Not much,” Neville huffed. “Only on game days during the quidditch season.”

“Both Ron and Hermione work,” George added.

“Hermione is the _head_ of the Muggle Liaison office. Hell, she’s the only reason The Ministry even _has_ a Muggle Liaison office. She’s the youngest ministry worker to head a department in all of wizarding history. She brings home enough galleons to hire help. And you know Ron’s had to run out of the shop on occasion to care for Rosie. He can do that, but you own the shop, you can’t drop everything like he can.”

“We could make it work,” George said. “Harry even said one time, ‘you find ways to make it work.’”

“It’s not just the working thing,” Neville said. “I love what we have here. I love that we can come and go whenever we want. I love that we can have nice loud sex with the door wide open, and we can sleep in late Sunday mornings after drinking too much firewhiskey on Saturday night. I don’t really fancy the idea of giving any of that up.”

“Parents always say it’s worth it.”

“And they usually look exhausted and have a streak of spit-up on their shirts when they say it.”

“You’re really anti-kid?”

“No. No, I love the nieces and nephews. In an ‘I’m glad to see them, but happy to give them back to their parents’ sort of way.”

“Huh,” George said, clearly at a loss for words.

“Are you mad?”

George shrugged, “Not mad. Upset a little. Surprised. I thought you’d be more on board.”

“We’re young,” Neville said. “I’m twenty-five, you’re twenty-seven. We have plenty of time.”

“If you change your mind,” George said.

“Right. How about this? I won’t close the door on the topic. George, my parents were well into their thirties when I was born. My dad was knocking on forty’s door. Gran was in her thirties when she had dad. Just because your mum and dad started at nineteen, and Ginny and Hermione went for it in their early twenties doesn’t mean we have to. Right?”

George shrugged, “All right. Just promise me you’ll think about it, yeah?”

“Of course,” Neville agreed. He pulled George in for a kiss, and led him to the bedroom. He needed to distract George from that conversation. Neville was nervous that he was disappointing George to the point where it would become an issue of staying together.

But, he had agreed to think about it. Because what the hell _else_ could he think about now that the topic had been broached?


	2. Two Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. And sorry for the short chapter - they do get longer after this.

**Two Years Later.....**

 

Neville kneeled in front of the grave marker after everyone else had left the funeral. He ran his fingers over the newly carved name of his Grandmother. Augusta Longbottom. He’d known for a while that her health was going down hill. He’d had to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to live forever. Mere stubbornness, which she had never been lacking, wasn’t enough to keep her old body alive forever.

But he didn’t realize it would hurt this much. His great Uncle Algie, who likely wasn’t long for this world, was now his only other living relative. As soon as he had that thought, Neville had to shake it out of his head. His parents were, technically, still alive. But somehow, Neville realized he won’t be this despondent upon their deaths.

That he was the last in the Longbottom line was hitting him just now. He knew the Longbottom name would die with him, but that honestly hadn’t bothered him before.

But now, staring at his Gran’s headstone, and looking around the Longbottom plot, it made him sad to realize there were still over a dozen individual plots left, and only four people left to fill them; his mother, his father, Algie, and himself.

He was crying as he stuck his wand in the ground, muttered a few incantations, and watched as plants bloomed in front of his eyes. He was so intent on casting ever-green charms on the plot, he was surprised when George walked up to him, “Hey.”

Neville jumped. “Hi.”

George kneeled besides him. “You all right?”

Neville shrugged, “I don’t know.”

George leaned in and gave him a hug, then leaned back, his hands still on the back of Neville’s head. “What can I do?”

Neville shrugged again. “I feel a little like I’ve lost an anchor. Like I’m floating free and can’t find a way to tether myself to anything.”

George stroked Neville’s hand, “I’m here. All of us, the Weasleys can be your anchor. You were mine, after Fred you know.”

Neville nodded. He knew it was true, had known it for years, really. The Weasleys had become exactly what the almost-orphaned Neville needed. A family. People he could call on to help him out, or to call him out on any bullshit. He’d never felt as comfortable with any group of people as he’d become with the Weasleys.

But still, they weren’t Longbottoms.

“Hey, George?” Neville asked.

“Hmm?” George asked, admiring Neville’s work in creating plants for the headstone.

“If we were to have kids, could they have the Longbottom name?”

“What?” George swung his head and started at Neville. “Are you serious?”

The topic of kids had come up occasionally in the past two years. Usually when a new addition was welcomed. Ginny’s third, Ron’s second, Bill’s third, and Percy’s first (George had gone into a fit of gleeful teasing, when Percy’s girlfriend Audrey ended up pregnant, and already in her fourth month when they got married. Perfect Percy- who would have thought?). When they talked about it, it was still in a future sense. Neville saying, ‘maybe in the future,’ and George agreeing to wait a little longer. George had started to think maybe he wasn’t going to have kids. And the very faint shadow of thought passed through his mind, that he might, eventually, have to choose between staying with Neville, and starting a family.

“I’m serious,” Neville said and he began to cry again. “I can’t stomach the thought of being the last in a line.”

“Wait,” George pulled on Neville’s arm, and they began to stroll through the cemetery. “Is this something you really want? Because having a baby is a long-term commitment. Are you just acting out of grief? I don’t want you to regret it. Because there’s not going back once a kid is here.”

Neville sniffed, and George valiantly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Neville. Neville took it and wiped his eyes and nose. “I want to do this. I don’t know much about kids, and I might not be a perfect dad, but I think it’s important to have something to pass on. Based on what Gran said, my parents wanted more kids after me. So I want them. I want two.”

“Neville, if you are just yourself, you’ll be a perfect dad,” George smiled as he pulled Neville in for a long kiss.

As they pulled out of the kiss, George leaned his forehead on Neville’s. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Neville nodded. “Let’s go home,” he said. “Cemeteries depress me.”

George held Neville’s hand as they walked through the cemetery toward the portkey they’d had set up. Apparition while grieving was not suggested - there was always a spike in splinches after a death. Neville noticed George bouncing a little, and he stopped and said sarcastically, “Would you mind not having such a spring in your step after my Gran’s funeral?”

George looked properly abashed, “I’m sorry. You may realize, I’ve just heard some good news.”

Neville smiled a little, “Can I have a week, at least, to grieve? Can you not call on Hermione first thing in the morning demanding she tells us how to go to a muggle doctor?”

“Yes,” George promised. He’d stopped bouncing so much, but he still had a smile on his face. “I’ve given you two years. What’s a few more weeks?”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“You really want to do this?” Hermione asked Neville and George with her eyebrows raised.

It was another Weasley Sunday. The first since Neville’s Gran’s funeral three weeks prior. Every day since then, George would wake up in the morning and say to Neville, “You still want a baby?” And every morning, Neville would smile and answer, “Yes.”

They both nodded eagerly to Hermione. “Yes,” George said. “Will you help us?”

“Of course!” Hermione agreed.”I have to think how we’re going to go about this, though. The muggles don’t just let anyone become a parent. There’s paperwork to fill out, and home visits and things like that. We’ll have to figure out a way to get your through that process.” Hermione stared at the ceiling and got the look of determined concentration on her face. Neville recognized that face from six years of Potions class with her. He knew that look on her face meant she’d help them figure it out.

“So we’ll have to pose as muggles?” George asked.

“Maybe,” Hermione nodded. “Probably.”

“Dad’ll love that,” George said. “He’ll probably want to tag along.”

“God,” Neville said. “He’d at the healer’s office-”

“Doctor’s office,” Hermione corrected.

“Doctor’s office, asking how their lights work.”

“Hermione, how do muggle lights work?” George asked.

“You mean lightbulbs? Through electricity. Almost all muggle technology runs on electricity.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you don’t know that already. This is why I’m pushing to make muggle studies a required course at Hogwarts. Only the most insular wizarding family will never have contact with the muggles. Everyone should know the basics. How to work light switches, how to ride the tube, how to operate a muggle car.”

“You’re right,” George said seriously in the voice he used to keep Hermione from getting too deep in her lectures.

Hermione, however, recognized the patronizing tone and gave him a slightly dirty look. “Next time I’m at mum and dad’s, I’ll use the computer and get some information for you. Listen, if you’re impressed by muggle light bulbs, you’d pass out learning what the Internet is.”

“What’s an internet?” Neville asked.

“Never mind,” she answered. “Your head would explode.”

_____

 

The following Saturday, Neville was helping George out in the shop, when an owl swooped in and dropped a letter on the counter. Neville picked it up, gave the owl a treat, and opened the letter. He could tell from the handwriting on the outside that it was from Hermione.

_Neville and George,_

_I’ve done some research into surrogacy. Come to my parents’ house tonight after the store closes and I’ll go over everything with you._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

 

“George!” Neville called, rushing over to the section where George was helping a boy of about ten pick out a fake wand for his brother’s birthday. “Excuse me,” he said with a nod to the boy and handed George the parchment.

George read it and smiled, “Brilliant.”

The day drug on after that. Neville helped re-stock shelves, helped a few customers, and helped George count the money after closing. “Hurry,” George said, as Neville methodically separated the Galleons from the Sickles and the Knuts. His leg was jittery, “Hurry,” he said again.

“We need to do it right the first time,” Neville pointed out. “It’ll take us longer if we have to do it a second time, yeah?”

George made an impatient growl in his throat, “Forget it,” he said, sweeping the coins into a cloth bag. “I’ll put this in the flat and we’ll do it when we get home tonight.”

Neville tutted, but didn’t argue, as George grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

They apparated to Hermione’s parents’ back garden and rushed to the front door and knocked on it.

Hermione answered the door, glanced at her watch and said, “That was fast. The store only closed five minutes ago.”

“We were anxious,” George said, bending over to give her a quick hug.

“ _Someone_ was anxious,” Neville corrected, also hugging Hermione and kissing her cheek.

“Come in,” she gestured.

As George and Neville stepped in, a tiny figure with bright red hair came running in, “Uncle George!” Rosie yelled flinging herself at George’s knee.

“Rosie-girl,” George whooped, lifting her high over his head and pretending to drop her before catching her at his knees.

She giggled, “Again! Again!”

“No, no Rosie,” Hermione said to her daughter, then she turned to George, “When you two have a kid, I’m going to come over and rile your children up right before bedtime. Then we’ll see how you like it.”

“WHEN we have a kid. Hermione, that’s music to my ears,” George said, then caught himself, “Well, ear.”

Hermione and Neville smiled at each other. George never missed an opportunity to joke about his one ear. Neville had never learned to joke about his scars. “Come into the kitchen she said. I told Ron to keep the kids occupied with my parents so we’ll have time to talk.”

“No, Hermione,” Ron said coming up behind her. “I’m interested in this. Your parents put a movie on for the kids.”

“Oh all right,” Hermione said, looking pleased at Ron. It made her happy any time Ron showed an intellectual curiosity about anything, particularly anything muggle. George knew what that was about - learning more about muggles as a way to understand and get closer to Hermione and her parents. In the early stages of their relationship, George tried to tag along with Neville to work in the Hogwarts greenhouse, or his small greenhouse and garden in his Gran’s backyard. But George did not have the skill with plants Neville did, and finally Neville gently broke the news to George that he wasn’t being helpful, and the gardening was therapeutic for him and he’s enjoyed it more as a solitary activity.

They went into the kitchen where Hermione had opened a machine that looked like an open book, but with a screen and a keyboard.

“What’s this?” George asked.

“A computer,” Hermione answered. “I did a web search about fertility clinics and surrogacy, and I have some good information for you.” She looked at them and added, “I printed off a lot of the pages, so you don’t have to worry about learning to use the computer.”

“You should learn to use a computer though,” Ron interrupted. “You have no idea - there’s this game called Minecraft-”

“Ron,” Hermione interrupted. “We aren’t here to talk about computers. Let’s help them out first, OK?”

“Sure,” Ron agreed, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Neville and George took other chairs.

“We’re going to have a tough time with this,” Hermione began. “You have a few options, but there are issues with every one of them.”

“What kind of issues?” Neville asked. As much as he hadn’t been on board with having kids before, now that he’d gotten used to the idea, he was excited to get started immediately.

“Issues with you being wizards, not muggles.”

Neville and George shared a grim look. Hermione quickly continued, “But it might be something we can work around, with some cooperation.”

“All right,” George said, voice thick with curiosity.

“The way most muggle couples - male couples or infertile straight couples- go about this is using an egg donor and a surrogate. Two separate women because there are legal reasons a woman who is a donor and the surrogate can try to keep the baby for herself. The problem with this is that the agencies that handle surrogacies do pretty detailed background checks on the donors, surrogates and the parents. So doing it this way would require a lot of cooperation from people we know to help you pass these checks. Let’s face it, you both work in places that muggles can’t access, you live in Diagon Alley which muggles can’t find, you don’t have telephones and so forth. We’d have to figure a way to get you to pass as muggles and get them a way to verify your employment.”

“Couldn’t we just confund them?” George asked.

Hermione pursed her lips and crossed her arms in front of her chest, “That” she said, “is completely unethical, George. Honestly, muggles are people and they have these rules for a good reason. Wizards can’t go around playing fast and loose with muggles’ brains. It-” she broke off and glanced toward the room where her children were watching television with her parents, “It creates distrust between wizards and muggles.”

Ron frowned at George’s lack of compassion in suggesting it. George forgot that Hermione had obliviated her parents prior to helping Harry escape from his muggle relative’s house. Ron had mentioned to George once that Hermione’s relationship with her parents wasn’t exactly solid anymore. “I shouldn’t have suggested it,” George conceded. “Go on.”

“You know muggle families of muggle-born witches and wizards are exempt from the International Statute of Secrecy. At the Muggle Liaison Office, we have a list of muggle family members who have knowledge of the wizarding world. I’ve been trying to cross-check that list with the list of people who work at fertility clinics in and around London, because knowing someone might help us get through. So far, I haven’t had any luck.

“The way to get around having to go through a background check would be to come to the fertility clinic with women you know who are willing to donate eggs and carry a baby. This takes the surrogacy agency out of the picture entirely, and it would all be conducted privately through muggle solicitors and the only background checks would be on the women’s health history.”

George sat up straighter and stared at Hermione like his eyes could bore a hole through her eyes.

Hermione instantly recognized the look and shook her head, “George, I did all this for you. _Please_ don’t ask it of me.”

“We won’t,” Neville broke in quickly. He could see George was getting ready to make a point, and he’d most likely be insensitive in the process.

“I thought about it,” she went on. “Honestly I did. But I had a very rough pregnancy with Hugo and I don’t want to be pregnant again. And I….” she drifted off, “I don’t think I could handle knowing a child out there was mine by blood and not have that child as one of mine. I’m made from strong stuff, but I just couldn’t do it.”

She looked so miserable, and Ron was glaring at George so hard, that he shrunk back, “It’s fine. I respect it.”

“Hey, Hermoine?” Neville broke in eager to change the subject, “You said the embryos are created in a lab, so how do the muggle healers go about getting the eggs and the sperm?”

Hermione blushed slightly, “Well, to get an egg, the woman has to take a medicine to make her produce a lot of eggs that month, then the doctors remove it with a needle.  And for the men, they hand you a cup and send you into a room to go….er...fill it.” She looked to the side, not making eye contact with either of them.

Neville blanched, but George snickered, “You’re gonna have to wank into a cup,” he teased his husband, and Ron covered his mouth trying not to reveal his smile.

“I….” Neville drifted off. “All right, so I’ll have to do that then.” His face had gone pink.

Hermione gave Neville a sympathetic look, “Here,” she said as she pushed some papers toward them. “I printed these out. It’s information on different clinics in London, and some general information on the process of surrogacy.”

“Hermione,” George asked, “What do you think the odds are of us being able to pass as muggles? And what would we have to do to make it happen?”

Hermione sighed, “It will be quite difficult,” she conceded. “They do a home visit, so we’d have to get you in a muggle house for a short time, at least. They do employment checks, so we’d have to figure out how they could contact Hogwarts for you, Neville, and I have no idea how to do it for you, George. They run checks on your credit, and both of you wouldn’t be tracked at all by credit. There’s a lot we would have to do, and I’m honestly unsure it could be done if I can’t find someone in any of the clinics who know about the wizarding world.”

George and Neville exchanged a grim look, “All right,” Neville nodded. He drew the papers toward him and stacked them, “Thanks for all your help, Hermione. Let us know if you find anyone.”

 

____________

 

When they got back to their flat that evening, George went right to shower without saying anything to Neville. When he got out and walked into the bedroom towel slung around his waist. He saw Neville lying in bed, reading through the papers Hermione sent him home with and made a face, “I don’t know why you’re bothering,” he said. “I don’t see any way this is possible.”

Neville looked up, “There’s hope. We just have to find a way.”

“Face it, Neville. We aren’t going to be parents. Ever.”

“Well, I’m not giving up.”

George snorted as he began to dress for bed. “Damn Hermione, calling us over and even giving us the idea that we could possibly do this.” He pulled a shirt over his head roughly. “You know, I would have rather she just sent the owl with a note that said ‘There’s no possible way you’ll have a baby. Good night and good luck.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Neville stressed, “But there isn’t no possible way.”

“Come off it, Neville. We can’t pass for muggles, there’s just no way that’s a possibility. And how Hermione felt is probably how most women feel. And I can’t blame them! Who would be able to give up raising a kid that was their own genetically? Why should a woman give up nine months of her life to grow a kid she isn’t even going to raise? I wouldn’t want to if I was in that position.” George flopped into bed next to Neville and lay on his back, his hands behind his head.

Neville noticed for the first time that George’s eyes were red-rimmed. He’d been crying over this in the shower. Neville reached a hand out, to hold George’s hand, but George turned over and away from him silently. “I just want to go to bed,” he said.

Neville hesitated. He wasn’t _good_ at this. He’d been married to George for three years now, and still didn’t know how to provide comfort. He lamely patted George on the back. “Don’t give up,” he said quietly. “We just have to think really hard.”

George snorted, but said nothing. After a few moments silent, Neville extinguished the lights with his wand, and lay down next to George, spooning him from behind. Neville kissed George’s shoulder. They lay together, not speaking but not sleeping either. It took nearly an hour, but Neville finally drifted off to sleep. George took even longer to fall asleep, he was trying his hardest to not let Neville notice the tears streaming down his cheeks, collecting on his pillow.

 


End file.
